


The Fifteen Box

by SpraceJunkie



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Gen, idk what this is i was just thinking abt it so i wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16174034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpraceJunkie/pseuds/SpraceJunkie
Summary: The Blood Box was opened at least once a week, to stop a bloody nose or patch a scraped knee, to wrap knuckles or find the last few drops of cough syrup for a boy who needed it.The New Box wasn’t opened all that often, but sometimes when somebody from another house was sleeping over, or there weren’t enough chairs even after the boxes were used, people pulled out pillows and blankets and put them back in the box when they were done.The Sock Box was motivation for most boys to get up well before the bell and rummage for a pair of socks that fit.The Fifteen Box was opened maybe once every couple months, if that.





	The Fifteen Box

The Fifteen Box was one of four boxes lined up under the windowsill in the living room of the lodging house.

There was the New Box, with extra caps, shoes, pillows, and blankets that were saved for new arrivals to the house who didn’t have possessions of their own or the money to buy them. When somebody moved out and didn’t take their stuff with them, it was folded into the New Box.

The Blood Box was full of clean bandages, any medicine they had, and anything else they needed to take care of themselves after a fight, or when they were sick. On top of the Blood Box, there was a jar that always had a few coins in it, for when somebody was sick and needed a doctor.

The Sock Box had originally been in the dorm rooms, until people started hoarding the socks for themselves. Then every single sock had been collected and placed in the third box, and it became a rule that the only socks you got to keep out of the box permanently were the ones you’d arrived wearing, unless you paid for them or had to trade out for size. One sock still went missing, leaving an odd number and therefore one small kid every day wearing one sockless boot.

The Fifteen Box was the most important box, though. It was smaller than the rest, which were all made out crates they’d pulled from the alley. It was made out of some old crate, maybe that had held something in a corner store, with faded letters nobody could quite make out on the side. It was the only box with a lock, made from pieces of scrap metal somebody had hammered into a flat piece with a loop that had been nailed into the front and top and clamped shut with something that may have been pieces of a doorknob somebody a while ago had managed to put back together so that it only opened with the key that hung around the neck of whoever was the leader at the time.

The Fifteen Box was sometimes used as a seat when there weren’t any more chairs, and sometimes carried into the kitchen to be used as a stepstool, just like the rest of the boxes, but unlike the rest of the boxes, it was rarely opened.

The Blood Box was opened at least once a week, to stop a bloody nose or patch a scraped knee, to wrap knuckles or find the last few drops of cough syrup for a boy who needed it.

The New Box wasn’t opened all that often, but sometimes when somebody from another house was sleeping over, or there weren’t enough chairs even after the boxes were used, people pulled out pillows and blankets and put them back in the box when they were done.

The Sock Box was motivation for most boys to get up well before the bell and rummage for a pair of socks that fit.

The Fifteen Box was opened maybe once every couple months, if that.

When a kid turned fifteen, the leader took them up to the roof with the Fifteen Box and opened it.

When Jack was fifteen, the Fifteen Box had been half empty.

Bear had taken him up to the rood, where Jack spent plenty of nights in the summer anyway, carefully holding it.

It hadn’t been put together by Switch, the leader before Bear, or Two-step, the leader before Switch, but the leader before him. And it wasn’t anything like the other boxes. The Sock Box was for daily use, the Blood Box for safety, and the New Box for convenience.

The Fifteen Box was more of a rite of passage.

When Bear had solemnly handed Jack the box and the key and told him to lock it up and bring it back inside when he was done, it had made him run through everyone’s thoughts about what was in the box.

Some people thought it was selling secrets, to help the boys who were getting older. Younger sold more papes, everyone knew that, so the Fifteen Box must have something to help the older boys sell better.

Most thought it was more of a present, some kind of thing to mark the fact that they were fifteen, which almost automatically made them one of the oldest boys in the lodging house.

Jack’s birthday had been mostly forgotten, because so many other things had happened that day. A fight, a new kid, somebody had been sick, it was like everything that could possibly happen in a day had all happened on Jack’s fifteenth birthday.

Bear had given him a piece of cake from God knows where, Race had given him a cigar, a few people had wished him a happy birthday, but mostly he’d just gone about his normal day.

Three days later, though, he had the key and the Fifteen Box and he was finally going to know what was inside.

On the very top there was a note. The handwriting was messy and it took Jack a while to figure it out, sounding out every syllable like he knew was the easiest way for him to read.

“If you ain’t fifteen, this ain’t for you.”

Underneath the note, there were a few papes, which he tried to read but gave up on when he couldn’t get through it quickly. The last thing in the Fifteen Box was a journal, and when he opened it he saw a list.

Every line was a short sentence, it looked like, and there were at most four or five lines in the same handwriting. He started to puzzle out what they said, since it seemed like the journal was the most important thing in the Fifteen Box.

The first few pages were things he’d heard from other boys. About girls, and guys, himself, his body, things that his father probably would have told him if he was still around.

The fourth page was where he started to hear things he hadn’t ever heard anyone say but he recognized anyway.

“Once you’re fifteen, you gotta feed the littles.”

“Once you’re fifteen, you gotta let the littles get the socks first, cause blisters hurt more when you’re little.”

“Once you’re fifteen, you gotta provoke the bulls if they start picking on a little.”

He hadn’t thought of them as rules, even as he got older and started to notice them, but once he saw them written he could tell they were.

Every boy older than fifteen always followed them. When he was little, when he was new, he’d never gone hungry, he’d always had socks, somebody had always been there to protect him in a fight. It got less and less extreme as got older, but he still never went hungry more than he could handle, he never went without backup in a fight, somebody was always there to take care of him.

The list went on and on, laying out the responsibilities of every fifteen-year-old newsie.

It took him a long time to read the entire list, and once he was finished he set the journal back on the bottom of the box, the papes on top of it, and the note on top of them. He wrangled the lock back into place and locked it again, and carefully carried the Fifteen Box back down into the common room and set it back in its place.

Bear made eye contact with him and smiled, then spat in his hand and shook Jack’s.

“You gotta listen.” He said seriously. “The Fifteen Box is for real.” Jack nodded, already taking his new role as an older boy seriously.

When Jack was almost sixteen, Bear had finally found a different job, moving out of the lodging house and passing the key to the Fifteen Box on to Jack, giving him the title of leader. There were boys older than him, but they’d be gone soon, too, and few of the boys regardless of age had been there as long as Jack.

He added to the Fifteen Box, keeping it up on the roof with him for about a month.

He wasn’t good at reading or writing; the words had always gotten twisted and tried to float off the page.

He was good at drawing, at capturing faces and places with his pencil with pictures rather than words, so that’s what he’d added to the journal. He drew a portrait of Bear and labeled it, and a picture of himself. He illustrated some of the rules and the ways he’d found best to follow them, and added his own in carefully printed words when pictures wouldn’t be enough.

“Every newsie is your brother.”

“Never give up on anyone.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

He’d thrown himself into following the rules as soon as he’d read them. They came naturally to him. These were the boys who’d protected him as he’d grown up, the ones who shared their food with him when he didn’t have enough. Even if the names and faces had changed, it was the same.

They’d taken care of him, and now it was his job to take care of them. He added more and more to the journal in his first year as leader, until it was full and he had to save up and buy another one.

By the time he was leading boys up to the roof and handing them the key to the Fifteen Box, it was way more than half full, but still had the same function.

The Fifteen Box was one of the four boxes kept under the windowsill, and Jack knew every secret inside. He gave it to every fifteen year old to teach them how to grow up, and added everything he thought needed to be included.

The Fifteen Box was more than just another one of the boxes, it was a way to tell an older boy that he had more responsibility, that he needed to step up and protect the younger kids, that his role was bigger now. That he was growing up, and as a newsie, that meant a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is, really, I just thought of it and liked the idea of older newsies passing rules down to younger newsies as they grow up.
> 
> As always, I'm Asper and I love Validation in the form of comments and kudos (and comments) and you should come hang on on Tumblr @enby-crutchie where I'm in a constant state of gay partying breakdown.


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